


Missing Family, Found

by AlyssiaInWonderland



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Hikaru misses his family, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, but the crew all try and help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 15:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13883304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyssiaInWonderland/pseuds/AlyssiaInWonderland
Summary: Hikaru's long distance relationship with Ben, and his bond with his daughter Demora, is strong as ever. But it's hard to be alone, and when he loses a treasured photograph, he's deeply affected.The crew try and help him in their own ways.In the end, it's not perfect. But it's ok anyway.





	Missing Family, Found

Hikaru softly traces his thumb over the picture of Ben and Demora he keeps at his station on the bridge. It’s an ingrained habit, at this point, instinctive and soothing all at once. He knows intellectually that his husband and daughter are not inside the photograph; they’re safe on a Starbase, and he has a scheduled call with them each week. Still, he loves the small piece of paper almost as much as he loves them.

He’d known it would be difficult, this mission, this distance between them. He had been prepared for all manner of things, breakups or faded love or just plain growing apart. He hadn’t wanted that outcome, far from it, but successfully navigating the asteroid-filled space between them was something he had braced himself to fail. But each day, each moment when Ben’s favourite food – feta and spinach pastries – appeared in the mess, or when he remembered with a pang that Demora’s favourite colour was yellow to match his command stream shirt, he was overwhelmed with a sense of love and closeness.

When they had married, he had hoped that Ben was his love. The brilliant, brave biologist that Hikaru knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, despite the chance that Starfleet would keep them apart more often than not. And remarkably, time and distance had not broken them. He still feels a rush of joy and love on seeing his husband and young daughter; he still feels that deep, pure trust necessary in a lasting relationship. He isn’t sure he understands quite how it works, or why, but he has long ago made peace with simply accepting that it does, and appreciating his luck. 

As time goes on, though, it’s starting to wear on him, just like the regular brush of his thumb is, slowly, fading the picture. He can see tiny flecks of the white paper being revealed as colour starts to flake off. Calls are all well and good, but he wants – needs – to feel Ben with him.

He starts to spend time in the biology labs, helping out with the plants, because Ben always said he had a green thumb, and sometimes the biologists twist his heart with words that sound like the ones Ben overflows with excitedly when they talk about work. He picks out flowers he thinks Demora would like, and takes them to visit his quarters each week before their calls, and tells Demora stories about the most recent acquisitions, about the adventures of Jim the fearless Captain, Spock the intelligent Vulcan, Bones the curmudgeonly Doctor, Nyota the brilliant Linguist, Chekov the genius Russian, Scotty the Scottish Engineer. The tales she begs for most, though, are the stories of Hikaru, the lonely Pilot. She thinks he says ‘loving’, and he doesn’t have the heart to correct her, but Ben’s eyes are bright with understanding and brimming with love, every time.

He tells himself he isn’t perfect, but he’s still fine. He really is.

Then, there is a small electrical fire on the bridge.

It’s right on his station, and he leaps back, grateful they were locked on course already as flames lick at the controls. He blinks at it for a moment, frozen in place, until there is a harsh flare of yellow fire in the corner of the console and he realises with distant despair that it’s his worn-out picture. Without thinking, he reaches in, snatches the paper out of the flames and stumbled back with Jim’s hand tight around his arm. His ears are ringing and people are shouting and all he can see is the soft black ash falling through his red, red hands.

The pain hits, sharp and fierce, a moment later, split between his heart and his hands. He doesn’t know what he’s saying as he’s guided to medical by a firm grip on his elbow – Chekov is surprisingly strong for all his youth and slight build. He keeps it together as Bones patches up his hands, wasting a large chunk of invectives on Hikaru’s unheeding mind.

He stumbles out of Medbay with a day of leave and tingling hands that almost itch from the regenerators. He wanders back to his quarters and sits on the bed, staring numbly at the wall. Tears don’t come until he thinks about going to water the plants in the lab, and then they flow thick and fast over his face, his hands crumpling into the texture of the bedsheets and his eyes blinking rapidly as if to absorb the tears.

He doesn’t sleep, but he doesn’t let himself make a sound either. Better the others not know of his distress – it’s a passing loss, at best. A picture is nothing compared to his living husband and daughter. It’s nothing but he still had to bite back the pain between his lips and he clutches at the emptiness of his palms like he can grasp the concept of the paper and drag it back into being through grief and longing alone.

In the morning, his shift is shifted to start at midday, and he heads to the mess hall, tired eyes but determined to crush his lapse in strength. To his surprise, Spock sits next to him, after communicating in his silent language of eyebrows and non-smiles to assure his welcome. Hikaru nods a greeting, not wanting to risk emotion spilling into his voice.

“I have a request.” Spock states, softly, and Hikaru blinks. Spock sounds almost…hesitant.

“How can I help you?”

“Would you join me in meditation for an hour or so?” Spock puts down his finished soy yoghurt and looks at him with serious brown eyes. “I have a meditation that requires a companion for optimal efficiency.”  
  
“Of course.” Hikaru says, automatically; he doesn’t have anything better to do with his morning.

He ends up sitting cross legged opposite Spock, a soft background of quiet Vulcan lyres and drums, soothing incense and deep, rhythmic breathing that somehow soothes him. He hopes he’s doing it right, but after a while, the worry breaks free, images of the fire flickering and then dying in his mind’s eye as they are replaced with a sense of calm and one-ness with his family, despite the physical distance.

He is gently roused by Spock’s hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Spock. I…was that ok?” Hikaru asks, embarrassed that he zoned out so utterly.

“It was most helpful, Hikaru. Thank you. Be well. I believe Scotty wishes to speak with you.” Spock ushers him out, and so Hikaru meanders towards the engine rooms, where he supposes Scotty will be.

Scotty greets him with a harried grin, shoves a spanner into his hands, and then dives down a Jeffries tube. After some mildly alarming clangs, he crawls back out again with a sharp grin.

“Sorry about that, laddie. She’s a fussy girl, sometimes, ye ken, and I cannae do a thing but serve her!” Scotty pats a wall affectionately, and then takes the spanner, leading Hikaru through to one of his storage rooms. “I got something for ye here, hang on.” Scotty rummages through several drawers, and then brandishes a PADD at him.

“Here ye go! Now, dinnae read this or use it until yer outta here, I cannae have ye hovering around while I got jobs tae do!” Scotty wedges past him in the small space, his smile making his dismissive words less insulting. Hikaru wanders to the mess, which is surprisingly quiet, and opens the PADD. A letter springs up, written in his native language – he notes that the letter is signed by Uhura, and smiles wryly.

_Dear Hikaru,_

_We know that things have been tough for you recently. You don’t show it much, but we are your friends, and we want to help. This PADD will enable you to make calls to your family so long as the signal is within range of the fully boosted sensors Scotty has made – you could be halfway across the universe and, pending unknown scientific phenomena which we admittedly come across at a disturbing rate, you should be able to make and receive calls. Jim pulled some strings to get you some extra comm-time._

_If you ever need to talk, know that we are here for you, whatever you need._

_Love,_

_Nyota & the crew_

Hikaru feels his eyes stinging, and brushes his hand over his eyes, feeling a droplet trickle onto his shirt sleeve. He sometimes forgets how observant, how genuinely caring, his friends on the ship are. It’s almost overwhelming. He pockets the PADD with trembling hands, making his way to the bridge on a sea of confused emotionality that Spock would no doubt abhor – though, he now realises, perhaps the meditation had been Spock’s way of helping.

He expects all eyes to be on him when he enters the bridge, but everything seems normal. Jim nods at him, and he slides into place next to Chekov, his thumb reaching out automatically to brush paper even though he knows it will meet metal, and – it meets paper. He blinks, and peers at the console. It’s a polaroid, taken on the last shore-leave. He and Ben have been buried under sand, and Demora is grinning up at the camera brandishing the tiny shovel that helped her accomplish her prank. He remembers Chekov taking the picture with his polaroid camera.

His throat tightens, his jaw clenching with the effort of holding back his emotions, He stands, turns to Jim, his hands clenched into loose fists. 

“Captain,” He says, hoarsely. “Permission to attend Sickbay. I’m…not feeling well, Sir.”  
  
“Of course.” Jim responds, his voice and eyes warm with affection and care. “Take all the time you need, Hikaru.”  
  
Hikaru practically sprints off the bridge, and ends up in Medbay more on autopilot than actual desire. At least, he thinks, he can count on the Doctor to be his usual, grumpy self.

“Dammit, man!” Bones grabs Hikaru’s arm, and he lets himself be shoved unceremoniously onto a bio-bed. “I knew the whole thing was too much all at once, but no, ‘course nobody listens ta me, I’m just a goddamn Doctor is all…” He mumbles the words, as he scans Hikaru and stabs him with several hypos. “Those are ta sort out your blood sugar an’ calm your hormonal responses; you’re real riled up an’ I jus’ bet I know why!”

Hikaru blinks at Bones, confused.

“They overwhelmed ya, didn’t they?” He asks, more gentle this time. Slowly, Hikaru nods. “I knew it.” Bones sounds grim, but somehow also fond. “Damn lot of ‘em think they can fix everythin’ in the snap of a finger! They mean well, though.” He offers Hikaru a rare smile.

Hikaru bites his lip, and nods. “Yeah. They’re all, well, they’re all so lovely, it’s just…”  
  
“It’s a bit much t’expect ya t’be okay with everythin’ bein’ handed to ya an’ all so new, when you’re so busy missin’ ‘em that it’s almost unbearable ta even think abou’ talkin’ to ‘em. When a piece of damn paper becomes more real’n a vid-call, that’s when ya know it’s gotten bad, righ’?” Bones keeps his distance, but Hikaru notices the real, deep knowledge in his eyes, and suddenly he remembers that Bones is divorced, and how scuttlebutt says he has a kid back on Earth. 

“What’s your kid’s name?” Hikaru asks, softly.

“Joanna. Yours is called Demora, righ’?” Bones says.

“Y-yeah.” The emotions he’s been crushing down rise up in his throat, scraping it raw, and as soon as he lets out a choked sob, Bones’ arms are around him, his hand rubbing his back gently, letting Hikaru soak his shirt with tears. “I just really, really miss them.”

“Yeah.” Bones doesn’t try to make it better. Somehow that’s more comforting than any empty words of pacification could be.

“Thanks.” Hikaru mumbles, a while later, once he’s wrung out and fragile from the tears.

“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, alrigh’?” Bones says, with a painful, small smile. “Now, why don’t ya go make use o’ that PADD. You got a while ‘til everyone’ll be expectin’ ya in the mess for an impromptu movie nigh’.”  
  
“Wait, a movie night?” Hikaru manages a watery laugh. “They went all-out, huh?”  
  
“Sure did.” Bones rolls his eyes. “I told ‘em it’d be stupid, but I reckon they jus’ wanted an excuse for another damn social. Now git! I got other patients stackin’ up in the corridors.”  
  
Hikaru sits on his bed, PADD in hand, hovering his fingers over the call button. Finally, he presses it, and Ben picks up.

“Hello? Who is it? If this is the window company again I’m going to-“  
  
“Ben! Ben, it’s me, Hikaru!” He is laughing at the joyful rush of the sound of his husband’s voice, despite the tears also spilling out of him yet again.  
  
“Hikaru? Hang on, let me get holo set up! How come you can call outside our allotted times? Demora, get over here!”   
  
Hikaru turns the holo on, and is greeted by the sight of his husband grinning wildly at the camera, somewhat dishevelled, and Demora dashing over, skidding to a halt and collapsing onto Ben’s lap, grinning at him toothily.

“Daddy!”  
  
“Hey there, squirt!”

He sighs, the knot in his chest since he lost the picture finally loosening. He drinks in his family’s presence until it’s Demora’s bedtime. He says a lingering goodnight to Ben, but for the first time he’s secure in the knowledge that they’ll get to say goodnight tomorrow as well.

And in between, he’s got the rest of his family looking out for him, probably waiting for him so they can start a terrible movie marathon. He smiles. 

He loves his family – every single one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a random fic I wrote on the spur of the moment, literally just now! I hope it's enjoyable and not too terrible!
> 
> <3
> 
> As ever, comments and kudos feed my dark soul :p


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